Something All Unlooked For
by Lady Fellshot
Summary: A routine merchant scout's run becomes somewhat less than routine when his path is blocked.
1. Whiteout

Disclaimer: The Forgotten Realms are not mine. The plotline is.

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Bhindax Hune looked over his shoulder at the rest of the merchant caravan. He glanced over the pack lizards with their cargoes of silks, spices, spell reagents and travel supplies for handlers, guards, scouts, the caravan's mistress and the passengers. He looked at the novice noble priestess with her own guards and hangers-on and stifled a groan for the hundredth time since setting out from Maerimydra. They simply made far too much noise than was desirable or wise for traveling through the wilds of the Underdark.

At least he was unlikely to attract the noble's attention or anything else's for that matter. Like most of the males in Orlzz'Hune, Bhindax favored the most nondescript clothing and gear that could blend into a rock face over the bright silks and cloaks that more cosmopolitan drow enjoyed and tended to be a bit plain in the face. His weapons also reflected someone who traveled in tight cramped spaces. A light crossbow with quarrels lay tucked against his travel pack and a pair of curved kukris, the house weapon of choice, lay sheathed across his lower back out of the way and close at hand.

Bhindax heard something in the Lolthite's luggage clang loudly and winced. At this rate, he reflected, every predator in the area would be hunting them. To make matters worse, the priestess lingered under the impression that _she_ knew the best way to Menzoberranzan, that _she_ knew the what to expect along this or that stretch of tunnel and that _she_ was sure that they were all wary for no good reason at all. Bhindax knew how glad he was not to be in the same vicinity of the zealot very often, but now he had new to report to Mistress Torleny Hune. For a welcome change, the caravan's leader rode at the front of the convoy rather than in the middle with the traveling priestess. "Pack mistress," Bhindax called softly as he jogged up to her riding lizard. "Possible trouble ahead."

"What is it?" the lean female growled as she glared down at him.

"Fissures in the tunnels ahead," he answered quickly so as not to worsen her mood. "Looks like recent, natural breaks in the stone and the tunnel does not look stable. Some dust fell in front of Malzin while we were examining the rockface." Bhindax looked carefully at Torleny and suggested, "We should either hurry through and hope it does not collapse or take one of the alternate routes around the questionable area."

"How much longer will the side route be?" she asked, resigned.

Bhindax relaxed a little. Torleny was not going to snap at him this time. "Five, maybe seven cycles of Narbondel."

"Damn." The senior scout waited patiently for the convoy mistress to reach a decision. She sighed, "We will..."

Whatever else Torleny said was lost in the sudden, thunderous crash that resounded through the tunnel. The passage became choked with dust. Bhindax swept his cloak's hood over his face to keep the worst of the dust out of his nose and felt his way to the tunnel wall. He could feel continuing vibrations through the stone and suspected that most of the tunnel ahead was now clogged with rubble. "Who is not ambulatory?" Torleny shouted after the echoes had died down.

Coughing, Bhindax went about locating the two scouts he had assigned to the front of the caravan. Malzin, a small, stocky drow, sat on his rear facing the collapsed passage. The novice scout's face was ashy pale with shock and he was covered in dust but otherwise seemed unhurt. "Where's Yinthra?" Bhindax asked the shaken younger scout sternly.

"S-she thought it was safe to go through," Malzin stuttered. He looked at the rubble in front of him and shivered. "She said we were being cowards before Lolth's clergy."

_Under the rubble then_, Bhindax thought, _good riddance_. He would not miss the conniving glory hound. The senior scout shooed Malzin back to the main lizard train with orders to steal a bit of food and stay warm. Bhindax padded back to Torleny to give her the news.

Upon hearing his report and assessment of the to blocked passage, the caravan mistress swore, "By the Dark Mother! Seven cycles of extra travel you said?" At the scout's nod, she continued, "We will need more supplies then. Go find us some."

Bhindax raised his eyebrows in surprise but otherwise stayed composed. "Buy, steal or no preference?" he asked calmly.

"Whichever is fastest, male," Torleny snapped. We will continue on ahead. Catch up to us when you can."

"Allow me to give my people marching orders and I will be off then," Bhindax bowed to the female and went to go give new scouting positions to make up for the late Yinthra and make sure Malzin had a watcher.

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A few hours later, Bhindax had the caravan's roomiest haversack over his shoulders, a few days worth of rations and a good deal of distance between himself and the merchant train. Most intelligent denizens of the Underdark, he knew, preferred to live in heavily defended cities against invaders, monsters and whatever else might lurk in the total darkness and silence of the wilds. Personally, Bhindax felt that the lack of ambient noise bothered the city dwellers the most. Sound and vibration could carry father than light and were far more likely to attract unwanted attention. He had spent years learning to move in the graceful silent lope that characterized the movement of the best Underdark scouts and guides.

He also supposed that the tunnels would seem a labyrinth to anyone unfamiliar with the caverns or the way most Underdark maps were laid out. While conversant in reading trails and charting courses through the dark passageways, Bhindax held a slight edge over most other guides he knew. The scout could always tell, with certainty, which was the fastest or safest path to take or which would be the best combination of the two. Bhindax could almost always find something if he knew what to look for. Orlzz'Hune's highest ranked priestess called it a gift from Lolth. Scuttlebutt when he had been much younger said that his knack was more likely due to his mother messing around with one of House Oblodra's males. Wherever the talent came from, it never grew to the point that it attracted the attention of Menzoberranzan's third ranked house and simply remained what it was.

Bhindax used the talent now to find the safest, fastest path to more supplies. He jumped through two different portals, one with designs he had never encountered before. Fortunately due to a charm called a churkei, he could pass through unwarded portals without incident. The token, when waved at a dormant portal, would either assume the shape of the key needed to pass, say the phrase required by the magical doorways or light up the right places to push to open them.

The scout squeezed through a couple of very tight passages that left new scuffs on his leather armor and clothing. His path sense brought him to another portal and he waved his churkei at it. The veins of quartz around the slate rockface lit up with a faint green light in three different spots. After a little trial and error, Bhindax got the portal activated in a trickle of sparkling motes and stepped through the magic doorway.

He found himself in a place with too much light to be the Underdark. The air felt frigid and something white crunched softly underfoot. Bright though it was, the drow could still see reasonably well. The scout took a guess that the sun had not risen, but that a very bright moon bathed the cold, wet white stuff in soft light. He looked around at the mixed forest of bare trunks and branches and needle leaved trees laden with more snow. Two sturdy, bare trees formed an arch above him and the doorway of the portal he had just come through. Bhindax surveyed the steep slope he stood on and decided to climb up one of the taller fir trees and gain a better assessment of his circumstances.

Squinting against the glare of moonlight on snow, he could see a small group of smoke columns rising above the treetops, far downslope and a few leagues away. Bhindax took a guess that a surface settlement lay in that direction. Such a place would be easy enough to sneak in, procure supplies and sneak out without anyone the wiser for his visit. If only that priestess didn't eat quite so much, he thought idly as he climbed down the fir tree and started off in the direction of the smoke, Next monster we come across we should ask her to get rid of it by herself.

Bhindax loped silently over the snow, trying to keep to the trees and painfully aware that his black and grey cloak, while perfectly suited to blending into the surrounding stone of the Underdark, stood out in stark contrast to the surrounding snow. He took the precaution of skirting around the edges of the clearings he came across until he came to a particularly long and wide clearing devoid of any trees whatsoever on a fairly steep slope. The scout decided to chance the crossing and started out over the snowfield.

As he got two thirds of the way across the clearing, Bhindax's sharp ears caught the sound of something big cracking on the slope far above him. The cracking sound was shortly followed by a sound not dissimilar to rushing water. The scout could feel vibrations in his boots and made a snap decision to abandon stealth for speed and find cover quickly. He ran for the nearest stand of fir trees as the vibrations got worse and the rushing sound became a roar attached to a massive wall of white bearing down on him. That realization firmly in mind, Bhindax swung up into the trees as soon as he got within reach of their needly branches, hoping to gain enough height to ride through what sounded remarkably like a horizontal cave in.

Then snow overtook him and all went dark.

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Author's note: Please leave a review if you feel so inclined. There will be more to follow at some point.


	2. Gold talks

Disclaimer: When a character that isn't mine makes an appearance, I'll do a better one. Until then, I do not own the Realms.

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Voices talking in strongly accented Elven fluttered at the edge of Bhindax's awareness. He felt frozen and could barely feel anything but cold calling him into oblivion.

"... We already told the monks that we spotted someone and were going to go look for them, didn't we?" an irritated alto voice explained.

"Can't we just leave him here, cover him back up and pretend that he was dead when we found him?" A deeper tenor voice grumped. "He's not that far off."

"Whereupon the humans will ask why we didn't bring his body back so they could ask his spirit if it wants to come back and we get in trouble anyway. Remember what happened to that visiting band of merchants when they didn't keep their word on a rescue?"

"Things were easier when that damn monastery wasn't around."

"Tell me about it. Here, you take that end there..."

The scout fell back into icy blackness as he felt something trying to lift him.

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Bhindax woke up feeling warm, dry and comfortable. He opened his eyes and almost immediately had to shut them again. The brightest light he had ever encountered outside of a wizard's spell came streaming in through a small window. Squinting and shielding his eyes from the bed someone had deposited him in, he could just make out what looked like his clothes and armor draped over a sturdy looking chair in a darkened corner of the small room. He did not notice anything resembling his kukri sheaths around the fabric and leather and supposed that his captors had confiscated them while he was unconscious.

His current physical state felt pretty good overall and the scout began to wonder where he was and what was going on. He did appreciate that he was not strapped to some torture device but grew increasingly curious as to why he still drew breath if surfacers had found him.

Muffled noise nearing his vicinity brought Bhindax's musings to an abrupt halt as he focused on the sounds of voices and footsteps coming towards him. Bhindax did what any sensible dark elf would do in his situation. He fell back into the bed, shut his eyes and did his level best to look unconscious while listening attentively.

The footsteps came closer and resolved themselves into two sets, one pair soft and light, the other heavier and more solid. A small metallic squeal and a slight scrape of wood on wood told the scout's ears that the door to his room had been opened. As Bhindax remained as still and patient as he could, the two surfacers started talking in the common trade language of the surface. The drow scout's command of the tongue was somewhat rusty, but he could still make out the majority of their conversation.

"He cannot possibly be alone," a melodically accented tenor voice said angrily. "We must find out how many were in his raiding party before they strike us or you!"

"If there are more dark elves out there, rest assured we will deal with them," A rougher, deeper voice stated calmly. "Let us find out for certain, shall we?" A slight hinge squeak and soft click told Bhindax that they had shut the door, the increasing volume of their footsteps told him that they were approaching his bedside. The scout relaxed as much as he could and endeavored to keep his breathing light and even.

"Too bad," the musical voice sneered, "He's still out cold." Bhindax felt some of his worry ease. He strove not to let it show in his breathing.

"No, he isn't," the calm voice said mildly and the drow felt his gut go tight with the pronouncement. "Our guest is awake and no doubt wondering about his fate."

Bhindax gave up feigning his continued slumber and very slowly moved a hand up to his face to shade his eyes as he squinted at the two surfacers. Both of them stood taller than the scout. One was a human male with dark hair and browned skin wearing plain thick woven shirt and trousers in a nondescript mud brown color and a silver amulet around his neck. The man's forearms, while not thick, were such that even with the unaccustomed deluge of light Bhindax could see every sinew's movement. That coupled with an easy, relaxed fighter's stance the scout usually saw with the best House weaponsmasters prompted caution.

The second person simultaneously provoked the dark elf's sense of caution and curiosity. With a slender build and delicately tapered ears that mirrored Bhindax's, the coppery skinned, golden haired wood elf glared down at the drow scout. The frowning surface elf's hands idly fingered the hilts of two blades on his belt and his green leather armor smelled strongly of bark. Bhindax vaguely remembered the sylvan elf's voice from the mountainside. "I suppose," the scout said in carefully neutral surface Common, "That I owe you thanks for my rescue."

"No, you owe me that thanks, young one," the human corrected. Bhindax frowned a little at being called "young one" by someone clearly a century his junior but held his tongue as the man continued, "I am required to ask: What brought you here?"

The Underdark scout watched the human idly finger his silver medallion and considered his possible responses. Nonspecific and nonthreatening seemed best at the moment as well as the least likely to get him killed on the spot. "I came for supplies for the rest of my merchant train," Bhindax said warily.

"You mean steal, don't you," the wood elf said angrily.

The dark elf shrugged noncommittally, "My orders were not specific as to how I got a hold of supplies. I am open to other options, should they be available to me."

As the surface elf made a strangled sound of disbelief, the human arched a thick eyebrow and said carefully, "A merchant you say?"

Bhindax felt a small spark of hope kindle and strove to keep it off his face as he nodded, "One who is most loath to alienate potential markets."

"My brothers and I care little for material possessions," the plainly dressed man said, "We do, however, host a small mercantile festival every year that we may allow you to take part in, provided you convince us that you will not bring your wars to this place."

The scout said musingly, "Any lasting agreements should be brought to my superiors attention, but they won't care as long as the terms are profitable enough." Inwardly, the drow grinned gleefully. He started thinking of ways to keep this prime assignment to himself and as few others as possible. _The passages I used are mostly tight, low or narrow_, he thought, _None of the caravan bosses like getting dirty or __traveling__ on foot_. Aloud, Bhindax continued with a small smirk, "I think we could keep our rivals in the dark, if my superiors think that we could maintain exclusive trading rights and provided this festival of yours actually has items we can export."

"I believe that the wood elves would be most reluctant to have more than half a dozen drow running through their forest at one time," The human noted dryly.

"You do not speak for us, Brisbane," the wood elf growled harshly, glaring at the monk.

"And our agreements do not include your say on who we allow into the village to trade, Lornith," the human, Brisbane, said coolly. The elf Lornith snorted, turned on his heel and strode out of the room, slamming the heavy wooden door behind him hard enough to make the window's panes shake in their framework.

Bhindax wondered what that display was all about and gave Brisbane his best traders' smile, "So, to start off the initial negotiations, how about those supplies? I would not want to doom a potentially useful market by overstaying my welcome and annoying your neighbors."

"A name, if you will?" Brisbane asked mildly.

"Bhindax Hune of Orlzz'Hune, merchant scout," The drow supplied. "Now, first my clothes and weapons, then business?"

"Your belongings, minus the weapons, are on the chair and should be dried out by now," the human told him and turned to leave the room. "Your more lethal equipment will be returned to you when you leave."

Bhindax hoped Brisbane meant what he said as the human exited the room and quietly shut the door behind him. The drow scout slid out of the bed and dressed quickly and quietly. True to Brisbane's word, the drow's crossbow and kukris were not to be found. They had even found the four small knives he kept up his sleeves for use in very tight quarters. Luckily for him, his neck pouch of gems and gold rings was among his effects. Sighing, Bhindax went to the door and listened intently for a moment or two. He did not hear anything and decided against trying to escape out the window. After all, it would hardly be good practice to leave without the goods he had come for. That and he knew his normal gear was not warm enough to see him through the chill surface air for an extended period of time.

Standing off to the side, he slowly pushed his room's door open a crack and peered out. The hallway beyond was thankfully more dimly lit than his room and covered with plaster to keep out some of the cold. Bhindax peeked around the door and found his nose inches from a swordblade.

The longsword was held by a female elf in practical brown furs and leathers with similar ruddy skin as Lornith but with short wavy hair a few shades darker than her skin. Green eyes with all of the warmth of an irate matron mother glared down at the shorter drow. "Could you direct me to where Master Brisbane went?" Bhindax asked carefully in Elven, not wanting to set the stony faced she-elf off.

"Start walking," she ordered in a cold alto voice, "I'll follow and tell you when and where to turn." Sighing softly, Bhindax obeyed.

After the first turn, hoping for a better measure of his guard, the drow scout asked, "What's your name?"

"Amaria," she answered and nudged him with the tip of her sword. "Left."

Bhindax obediently turned left down the next candlelit hall and said, "Well, I told your Lornith 'thank you' for the rescue, I may as well extend that thanks to you as well."

"Duly noted." Amaria's blade did not waver from where it tickled the back of his neck. "Next door on the right."

Suppressing another sigh, the drow scout did as he was told and found himself in a sparse office with a desk and two wooden chairs. Brisbane sat in the chair farthest from the door and motioned Bhindax to the seat opposite the desk. The dark elf sat down with a wary glance at his wood elven guard and tried to keep his mind off his unexpected good fortune and keep it clear for bargaining. Amaria closed the door behind him with a soft click, leaving the scout alone in the room with the human. "So you wish to purchase supplies and look into a business arrangement to come here again," Brisbane stated in a mild tone. "Care to fill in any details?"

"Well, with regards to supplies I need foodstuffs that travel and keep well and I need a good deal of them," Bhindax said matter of factly. "Enough for twenty elves for seven days."

"You don't ask for things in small bits, do you?" the human said with mild amusement. Bhindax kept back the first retort that came to mind, reminding himself that he did not have any means of backing it up on this trip. Brisbane continued, "Fortunately for you, we do have a couple of extra bags of rice we can spare."

The drow scout looked at him blankly and the monk explained, "It's a grain cooked by steaming."

"It'll do," Bhindax resigned himself to eating the stuff for the next hand of days. "Anything else you would like to get rid of?"

"Well, not in the quantity that you asked for..." the human started, but the scout grinned and cut him off.

"I'll be the judge of that," the dark elf chuckled. Soon, a jar of dried red fruits preserved in herbs and oil, a pouch of more herbs and small pale nuts and a small bottle of spicy vinegar-like sauce was added to the list for the quartermaster. _Mistress Torleny doesn't need to know about these_, Bhindax thought wryly and resolved to doctor the supply list at the first opportunity.

"And how do you intend to pay for this?" Brisbane asked.

Bhindax kept himself from snorting in amusement with difficulty, _Surely they went through my belongings and already know how much gold I have on me_. Aloud he said, "I've a few gems and some trade weight gold rings I can use." The gems were his own pay and the rings "liberated" from Torleny at the start of the trip. He knew the caravan mistress suspected that he did so before every trip, but he was the one who paid out the scouts in addition to procuring any extra supplies the caravan might need. It ended up making her life easier with no effort on her part and added a delightful bit of subterfuge and free rein to liven his life a little.

The human monk and the drow scout haggled over price for a few minutes. Bhindax made sure to avoid the tougher bargaining tactics he employed in the Underdark, partly because he wanted to keep this market open and friendly and partially in relief that he had not been killed out of hand. When they arrived at a mutually agreeable price, the scout handed over a ring and a half for his supplies and asked, "So, where do I go to pick up my remaining gear and purchases?"

"I will introduce you to Brother Koren," Brisbane said reassuringly. "You will be showing him and the Sparrowhawk siblings where you got to the surface." Bhindax's merchant's face slipped enough to show his surprise and the monk continued, "We wouldn't want raiders from the Underdark finding us. I will also be asking the wood elves to shoot any drow they find who are not accompanied by you personally."

"Good to know," Bhindax remarked blandly and inwardly grinned, _Oh, Torleny's going o have a harder time finding me expendable now._ "Can I collect my things and leave now?"

Brisbane nodded and gestured to the door.

--)--------

Author's note: Nope, I still haven't excised this from my head. At least the muse for this story isn't persistently gnawing at my ankles. Please leave a review if you so desire. If you don't want to do it for me, then do it to bolster up the review button's self esteem. The poor thing is probably lamenting that it is sitting there for a Realms story with a fully original cast thus far.


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